


winter winds; blow through my heart

by charmainders



Series: GotG || Peter & Gamora [9]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Quote: "When are we gonna do something about this unspoken thing between us?" "What unspoken thing?", Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-07 09:23:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15905448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmainders/pseuds/charmainders
Summary: it's a long step to recovery; both of them know. it's not going to be easy, but both of them, regardless of the situation, are willing to stay by each other to get back on their feet and move on; in the loving hands they'll heal the broken pieces and the cold winter winds that once blew through their hearts will subside to become something else.





	1. and my hopes, they are high; i must keep them small.

**Author's Note:**

> ". . .though i try to resist, i still want it all."
> 
> i had a rough twelve chapter fic idea that i wanted to try. not sure how this will turn out, but this fic will be what i'll be working on with at least two updates per every week for the next six weeks through my holiday. i'm thinking of keeping updates to wednesdays and saturdays (which will be thursday and sunday for me, since i'm in asia, and i'm roughly twelve hours ahead of most of my readers). all these ideas are purely mine and i'd appreciate if you guys comment and give feedback!!

The next time Gamora awoke from her electrical shock-induced black out, thanks to Rocket, she's asleep in a foreign room that she doesn't recognize, but the sheets are so wonderfully soft that she quickly sinks into, the sensation lovely against her sensitive skin. She curls into a tiny ball for a moment, her eyes shutting against the artificial lighting of the ship.

It's then that the horrible realization sinks in.

_Peter._

_"Rocket look at me, where is he?"_

No. That can't be right. He's still out there. And yet she's still in here, with the audacity to want to sleep more. Her breathing begins to become shallow by the passing moment, her chest aching and heaving, gasping for more air as she tries to desperately think. Throwing the sheets off, the cold air hits her like a wave, and it causes her to feel the nausea and the bile building in the back of her throat, like she's ready to throw up and pass out there. No, no, no - she needs Peter. Screw Rocket and his stupid maneuver, Peter was now out there in the cold abyss of the open galaxy without anyone to save him. Gamora desperately tries to find for her combat boots, putting them on in a rather careless fashion before she throws her room door open to seek for anyone that could tell her where Peter was.

All of the Guardians were there. 

_Except Peter._

Gamora's head spins, her breathing becoming even more shallow than it was before - she's losing herself to the moment, unable to think or even speak when Mantis offered to help her. She shoved the girl away, which she knows the consequence would be to apologize for it. But she can't even think, can't even speak. It's not until Drax moves over to support her weight that she starts to realize the gravity of the situation - she'd lost her best friend, her partner, and the one person she had feelings for.

She begins to regret not telling him how much she loves hearing his stories about his childhood on Earth, and all the times that she had wanted to truly tell him that she did in fact have feelings for him, too, unlike the cold shoulder she had always put up in front of the team, even around Peter. Every single teasing touch, every smile, every dance they shared, it's all hitting her _now._ Gamora's tears are salty on her lips, and it drips off her chest rapidly like a stream, her chest rising and falling rapidly and painfully. She hates this feeling, the only time she ever gets this is when she has nightmares. And yet somehow, she feels as if the galaxy is really testing her patience by almost killing her team, and taking away the person that meant most to her. 

Gamora legs are the first to give as she falls to her knees, her tears still falling off her cheek. Her heart has shattered to pieces, fragments that can't be stitched to the original working state. She'll never stop hating fate for giving her the worst gift of all; a horrible life that includes losing the person she was so afraid to admit her love to.

_She's given up._

* * *

She's tired.

The team has decided to let her be, with the stubborn front she's attempted to put up. Her tears are dried on her cheeks, her lips feel cracked at how dehydrated she is from crying, but Gamora has yet to get up from where she sat. The warm mug of water, left behind by kind-hearted Mantis, still sits beside her on the ground as she waits hopelessly for something, or anything that would make her happy again. So far, she's failing.

Seconds turn to minutes. Minutes turn to hours.

That's when she notices something out in the distance.

Getting to her feet, she walks towards the controls to get a better view. She struggles to focus, with how exhausted she is, until it clicks in her mind that the figure, or rather _two figures_ could belong to the only two people missing from this ship. "Kraglin!" Her feet scrambles to the exit as the exhausted ravager moves to the flight deck, then grabbing the steering wheel and turning to the direction where the two of them were, "They're out there! I saw them!"

Her heart is racing, pounding hard in her chest as she opens the exit, revealing the two figures that had been floating out in the galaxy. The space suit is wrapped around Peter, who's out extremely cold, but she can see that his chest is rising and falling, signalling that he's alive. But Yondu hadn't been too lu- _oh._

Yondu sacrificed the suit in exchange to let Peter live.

Gamora chokes back a sob as Kraglin moves Yondu over to the other room to prepare for the funeral, as if he knew and had accepted the fact that his captain was gone. That left Peter and Gamora behind. Without waiting, she moves to pick him up in her arms, her modifications aiding her in carrying his weight. With each and every step, she makes her way for the unoccupied room at the end of the corridor, then opening it to lay him down on the bed, fitted with fluffy blankets and soft pillows that were right for a King or Queen with riches. His body is so cold, it feels like ice on top of skin. She hates seeing him like this, so obviously suffering; the crying evident even if he was unconscious. 

She stays awake for the rest of the night, every so often getting a basin of warm water, then dipping a towel and placing it on his forehead to help his body back to its normal temperature range. Every passing moment felt like eternity, and she grew impatient. Gamora just wanted to scream at him for being so damn stupid, but she knows it's not his fault. Her hand hasn't let go of his, tracing her thumb on his knuckles as he continued to watch after him.

His fingers begin to twitch. His thumb moves first, then the rest of his fingers begin to move in her hands. Her eyes watch as his open to meet hers. He's about to say something, but all it does is to choke out a dry cough from the back of his throat, causing Gamora to get to her feet and grab a mug of warm water for him to sip and hydrate himself. Oh, how she wanted to kiss him right now, as she brushes her hand through his brunette curls to untangle the mess that had formed. The back of her fingers trace his cheek, and she can feel how his eyes are settled on her, as her hand moves down to his chest, lightly resting over his heart to feel the faint heartbeat. It's reassuring to know that he's alive. They don't need any words, as they sit there like that, gazing at each other with tender eyes, her hand reaching for his to hold it tightly.

_"I'm glad you're here,"_ is all she says. It's more than enough.

* * *

Hours turn to days. Days turn to a week.

Gamora is sick of not hearing anything from Peter. So far, all he's done is come out of his room only for meals, putting up a smile she knew very well was fake, and eating only a few mouthfuls before he took bottles of their alcohol stock to his room. She misses the teasing and playful touches, the constant invitation to dance with him, the way he looked at her like she was a princess, and the way his fingers lingered on her skin ever so softly. She misses how nice he smells, the smell of his aftershave, and the brunette curls that looked like ripples in water. She wasn't used to this side of Peter - he was usually so damn loud and obnoxious, his heart clear on his sleeve as he dances to the music on the cassette. He barely answered to her calls from the other side of the door anymore. He'd locked himself away, and each passing day, she can feel him slip from her grasp, losing him bit by bit. 

At first, it seemed that it was better to let him be. But one week was too much. How he had managed to keep this all in without talking to someone, or having a mental breakdown was beyond her. But yet she understands; he's lost his adoptive father this past week, and it has managed to knock him off his balance. Every step on this ship felt like she could cry, and her skin would crawl at how unusually quiet it was. Even Rocket had taken it upon himself to care for Groot and move their activities to their shared room, instead of constantly yelling outside. Drax had been accompanying Mantis, making sure she settled in with the team and she was comfortable.

If she had any guts to say it, she hated the idea of confronting the situation, lest she had to go through his crying. But if it meant helping him get better, then she would have to do it. For the sake of the team. Maybe they could get their _unspoken thing_ solved, too.

Moving to his room door, she gently taps her foot to the door, waiting for an answer from the occupant. She hears a low sigh, and a few steps of shuffling on the ground, before he appears at the door. Her heart sinks - his usually well kept mustache was growing in all the wrong places, his hair dishevelled, and his body slightly hunched at how tired he is, evident by his dark eye circles.

She didn't know what she was supposed to be doing; she's never comforted someone this intimately before. Both of them stare at each other, words that seemed right at first now stuck at their throats. Without waiting, she steps into his room, her back turned to him as she finally speaks up. "Peter, I just...wanted to make sure you're okay," she glances to her feet awkwardly, "You've been awfully quiet. I know you're going through some emotional shit, but...you can always tell someone, y'know? You don't have to keep it from me at all, I _promise._

She can feel the way his eyes settle on her, the way he's looking at her - and she turns to finally look at him. "I'm fine, Gamora," she finally hears him say, the first words in days. But it doesn't help her ever growing worry, because she can tell that he's not fine. He's lethargic, awfully quiet, and so obviously ready to give way anytime. But yet he's trying to hold that strong front up, and it causes her already shattered heart to break further. "Peter," she starts, "You know that I don't like it when you lie to me. It's really okay to be clean with me about what you're feeling. You're clearly not fine if you're locking yourself away everyday, and putting up a front that all of us know is fake. Even Groot has begun to take notice of the lack of any emotion in your eyes at meals." 

She bites her lip harshly at the way she's spoken to him - was it too mean? Too straightforward?

"I'm sorry if that came off...too to the point." She sighs, then moving closer to stand just in front of him. It causes him to widen his eyes for a moment, and she can notice the soft, glossiness of his eyes that signals he's about to cry. Nope, nope nope - she didn't want to be the cause of this, nor does she want to see him cry. She thinks she may just break down too, and she can feel the walls of this failing brick house caving in on them both. She wants to escape it now, so she wouldn't have to experience this. Not like this. "The point is, Peter...I came here to tell you that the team needs you," she raises an eyebrow as he opens his mouth to interrupt, then placing her hand over his mouth to shut him up. "Just listen to me first. I'll leave after I'm done."

Peter moves his hand to take his in hers, intertwining their fingers and letting her talk. "I guess I came in here for another reason, too, to tell you that I miss you. Not just in a best friend kind of way, but...Peter," she steps closer, her hand on his chest as she feels his heartbeat, then leaning in to kiss him sweetly on the lips, "Whether you like it or not...you've become a big part of my life. You've given me so many things to care about, the gift of a family, and quite possibly the chance of falling in love. It's all I've ever wanted. And somehow, you managed to give me all of that. But I can't let you go now, and it feels like I'm letting you slip right past my fingertips."

Gamora squeezes his hand just a little tighter, then sighing as she lets go of them both.

"Peter...I don't want to force any of this on you. I know you still need some time alone, to regain what you've lost and what you need back in your life. If you need me, you know where to find me. Just...don't forget that there's a whole team behind you that cares about you," she whispers softly, just loud enough for both of them to hear. "When you're ready, come talk to me. Don't force yourself, alright?"

With that, she tiptoes again to kiss his cheek this time, and then turns around to leave for the door. As she closes the door behind her, she gives a comforting smile to Peter, "Good night, Peter...Get some rest, okay?" The door shuts once she gets a soft nod of acknowledgement from Peter. 

For him, she's willing to wait.


	2. lean on me; when you're not strong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> — "i'll be your friend, i'll help you carry on.  
> for, it won't be long; till i'm gonna need, somebody to lean on."

She hasn't slept since the night before.

Her room has a view of the galaxy, and it's stunning, if she were to be honest. It could easily lull her to sleep, but somehow, the thoughts in her mind are mingled and she can't close her eyes for a few minutes before dreaming about Peter dying, and she'd proceed to snap back awake in shock. Gamora has given up trying. Her bed is pressed up against the wall and it faces the window; the time reads somewhere early in the dead hours of the morning. Even through the walls, she can hear Drax snore; the sound of Rocket trying to get Groot to sleep, and the whirring of the machinery working at its hardest as they float endlessly through the galaxy.

She'd offered her company to Kraglin on the flight deck, but he opted to be alone instead. Not wanting to argue, she let him be. Anyway, he's grieving too. He's lost his trusted family. Of course he would feel the pain of losing Yondu.

Her thoughts are brought back to Peter.

Holding one of her many pocket blades, she's resorted to keeping herself occupied by throwing the blade up to the ceiling, then catching it just as it comes down. She thinks she shouldn't be doing that, since her pocket blades are rather sharp, since she sharpens them everyday. Come to think of it, the whole team has lost their momentum for the last week or so - Peter has yet to return to his regular sleeping and eating habits, Drax hardly yells anymore (out of consideration, it seems), Rocket is absolutely silent, only greeting the team along the hallways before shutting his own room door with a rather loud bang. All she hears are the mechanical sounds of _something_ in his room. God knows what he gets up to in there. Kraglin refuses to sleep. Mantis seems shaken up, her eyes wide in fear when Gamora attempts to have a conversation with her (which she thinks might partially be her fault, too).

She says that, but it's as if she's any better.

Gamora hasn't slept for more than hours at a time, sleeping for only bursts of two to three hours before waking up from either a bad dream or restlessness. Gamora is tired, but it's not the tired she associates with sleeping. There's no words for that kind of exhaustion; it's more of the kind that sleep won't fix.

She misses hearing Peter's obnoxious singing and music playing in the hallways.

_"And somehow, you managed to give me all of that. But I can't let you go now, and it feels like I'm letting you slip right past my fingertips."_

She pinches the bridge of her nose at that. Why did she think saying that was ever a good idea? How was she supposed to face him now at breakfast? This was the biggest reason why she hated admitting to emotions - she didn't do emotions. She avoided them at all costs, avoided them like the plague, like how she has been avoiding starting arguments with Rocket in the past week or so. And she's done good at it, for both tasks. Yet with Peter, it came out so naturally. Like she finally _knew_ what happiness meant. And yet she _doesn't._

_Go back to sleep, Gamora. No point keeping yourself awake over such things._

And so she does.

* * *

The kitchen is empty when she wakes in the morning, which has been the usual for the last week or so. Back on the Milano, Drax was always the first awake, followed by Gamora. They'd make breakfast together and alternate their duties with washing the dishes. But all that's out of the window as of late, and she can't blame anybody; not like anyone had the heart to do anything while they were grieving, or in the midst of recovery. 

She takes it upon herself to get breakfast ready for Groot, who's sat by himself on the kitchen counter (how he got there is beyond Gamora, but she's not about to question it). Her heart melts at the way Groot is playing with a piece of paper he'd found lying around, lightly folding the giant piece and tearing it apart to confetti size to toss it in the air. She offers him her hand, and places the sapling on her shoulder, and they cook together. She may not understand Groot much as of yet, but the basic things like _fruit_ is simple enough for her to understand. She washes them and puts them in a bowl for him, cutting it into tiny pieces before offering it. And the sapling seems satisfied by himself, sitting by the bowl and taking small bites at a time to fill his appetite.

That's when she hears the team starting to wake up - first is Drax, then Rocket, and a sleep-deprived Mantis. 

Peter is missing. 

She doesn't question it.

The team is fed with fruits, and all of them finish it, the first time in days that anyone has had a proper appetite. When everyone retreats to their rooms, she brings a bowl for Kraglin who offers a quiet acknowledgement, still focused on the controls and watching the galaxy. She then thinks about the last person on this ship who hasn't eaten at all, other than herself.

* * *

"Peter?"

No response.

"I"m coming in. I hope you don't mind."

No response again.

She opens the door, and she's met with the sight of him at the window, looking out as the galaxy goes by him. The colours are mixed between the purples, blues, and pinks, with an occasional sparkle mixed in it. A silhouette sits by himself, with absolutely no movement, and the shadow of a beer bottle sat by his side. She knows he's been drinking excessively, slipping back into his old habit of alcoholism. She knows it's unhealthy, but it's been his coping mechanism. She feels bad for letting him be, because he's told her about it before.

_"I used to drink," he mutters one night as they're sat in the cockpit, causing Gamora to swivel in her chair to look at him, whilst carrying out their duties to watch over the Milano as the rest of the team slept. The cockpit was quiet, other than for the sound of their breathing and Drax's snoring. "I'd drink till I was so shitfaced that I couldn't even do anything the following morning. Sometimes, I'd probably find a girl in my arms, and we'd be naked. Things were fun. And there wasn't anyone stopping me from doing so. Regret the morning, do it again in the night. It was a way to cope with the loss of my mom and my loneliness. How much I longed to see her face again. Deep down, I craved for affection, and for someone to listen to me. I wonder what it'd be like if I'd never left Earth."_

_I wouldn't have met you._

The door closes behind her as she takes cautious steps to his side, two bowls of freshly washed fruit in her hands as she crouches down beside him. It takes him a moment, but he does turn to look at her eventually. Quietly, she passes the bowl of fruit over to him. "You should probably eat something, Peter. You've yet to eat properly in days, or stay hydrated," she whispers as he takes the bowl with a raised eyebrow. Gamora can see how tired he is, his eyes red rimmed and glossy as he shakily takes a piece to chew. 

"What I said last night..." she plays with the slice of fruit in her own hand, then slotting it into her mouth to chew, swallowing thickly before she spoke again, "I meant it. Every last word. I care about you. And the team is falling apart. I don't blame it on you, but if you don't tell me what's on your mind, then all I can really do is watch as you slip right out of my fingertips. And that's the last thing I want."

Peter shakes his head in silence. "You could choose not to care."

"But I do," she puts the bowl down and turns to look at him, her eyes fixed on his. She reaches to take his hand, which, at first, results in him pulling his hand back, refusing to be touched. It's so unlike the Peter she knows, the one that loves touching her all over her body, the one that lets his fingers tease and dance across her back as they work through chores or the cockpit. "I didn't come here to try and get you to open up about everything to me. I know that you need time to heal and close that wound. But...isolation isn't going to help. You're clearly not fine if all you do is lock yourself away and slip back to alcoholism. Even Groot is concerned about you, and he's just a sapling."

That seems to shut him up. His gaze us settled on her, and for the first time in a week, it seems like everything he's feeling is spilling out - his eyes get watery, then his hands shake even more. His muscular frame seems to crumble as he glances down to her fingers, then reaching to take her hands. It's the first time in a long, treacherous week, that she feels how wonderful his hands are in hers, the warmth of his skin that radiates off him as she scoots closer to him. Never mind the intimacy, getting him to understand her and perhaps open up at some point is more important. His lips stay sealed, but she doesn't mind it.

"You're going through more than you can handle, Peter, and I may not know how it feels. Those things that were done...they were horrifying. Unimaginable. But it's not your fault," Gamora quietly whispers, a hand moving to place on his chest to feel his heartbeat; to steady herself in the knowledge that he's _here._ The tears are beginning to spill and drip onto her skin, each one faster than the last. She lets go of his other hand to wipe at his eyes with the back of her fingers. It's then that he stops her movement, taking her hand in his own and pressing it to his cheek, leaning into her touch.

Both of them let the silence take over, before Peter speaks in the best tone he can without sobbing. "When...mom died, I grieved. Alone. Loneliness is no longer a stranger, but a friend. Sometimes in crowds, or with friends, or even with the team, I feel so _alone._ The reason I've yet to properly open up to any of you is because I don't want to drive any of you away from me," he shakes his head, the sob he's been trying to hold back finally escaping his lips. "I feel as if I'd drive you all away at how pathetic I sound, and then make you guys think I'm a lost cause. I've lost the people that brought me up. I can't lost the team," his hand now reaches to cup her cheek, as he holds in a breath, "I can't lose _you_ either, Gamora."

The way he said her name, the way the sob left his lips. It shatters whatever toughness she's kept in her heart, and it lays broken like glass. "You think you'd lose me to something you couldn't control?" She questions silently as her nose and throat sting with the onset of tears, a lump forming in the back of her throat. "Peter. None of what happened was your fault. You think you're a lost cause, but I think you just need time to recover, believe me. Like I said, I meant every word I said. In the last four months, we've become more than just a family. You're _my_ partner. I need you, _more than anything_ , to return to me. Everyone needs their alone time, to recover and get better. But I can't do that if you shut yourself out and slip away. That's not how it works."

His hands pull away to cross over his chest, his breath stiffening. 

It's not enough. She tries again.

"I still remember bits and pieces of what you told me about your life alone, about drinking excessively to forget the pain. I really can't let you go back to that. Your issues...your problems; if you keep them hidden, sooner or later you're going to drive yourself to insanity. You are nowhere near being a lost cause. You aren't going to lose the team just because of this. Hell, if I had the damn guts to say it, you're far from losing me too." Her hands reach to take his, her thumbs running over his knuckles lovingly. She swallows thickly at the lump that's forming at the back of her own throat. "I don't think isolation is helping you to recover. Look at you," her hand reaching to touch his unkempt beard, "You're no longer the Star-Lord I know and adore. What happened to the man I love? What happened to his lingering touches, and the way he dances around me when he's happy? You used to tell me every single story you had in your life. Funfairs with your mom. Dancing barefoot in the backyard of your house, on the grass. Laughing at the silly things. _Where has that man gone?_ "

It's enough to get her to start crying.

The first time in years she's cried this hard.

"You may think you're useless and a lost cause. But I _need_ you, Peter, and I refuse to let you just sit here and lock yourself away, as I watch you fade further away from me. I'm willing to go through all of it for you, even if it means going through every single bit of suffering just to see you smile again," her voice quivers as it comes to the last few words.

She can hear his breath hitch again. And so does hers. Without any warning, he leans forward, inch by inch, closer till their breaths mingle, till she can feel it on her lips. Her eyes flutter close, waiting for that feeling to return. His fingers linger on her bare skin, up her arm, and it sends waves down her spine. She's never felt more alive than now. Their lips connect; the salty taste of his lips on hers as their lips move in sync, yet they fit like puzzle pieces that were searching for each other their whole lives. His fingers trace the outline of her face, then coming to rest on her cheek. The kiss is short lived, but it's okay to her. It's gentle, passionate, tender, and she feels like a schoolgirl that he's always described from the movies. Their lips part, to allow them both to breathe, and he sits back in his original position. Gamora wishes he didn't pull away so quickly; and it's odd to her - she's been touch deprived for so long, craving for affection. And now that she's gotten what she's wanted, she doesn't know what to say.

Both of them stare at each other, no words to speak.

"Once I'd gotten to know what truly happened to my mom, there was no time to turn back as the world came crumbling inwards," he starts, "There was no turning back. It was only as I was kneeling in the middle of the rubble and explosion that reality began to settle in for me that I was nothing more than a celestial battery to him. I feel like an asshole for believing everything he said. I haven't had a family in years. Suddenly you guys show up, and it's all I _ever_ wanted. I hate to admit this, but I'm afraid to lose you the most, out of everyone," his voice is barely a whisper, "You're the closest thing I've had to wanting a proper relationship with, to love you wholeheartedly with all of my being, after so many years of sleeping around and running away. You mean _everything._ Being straightforward and emotional has never been my strongest pursuit. It feels like I'd drive you away."

Her hands take his in hers, then pulling them close to her to kiss his knuckles tenderly, one by one. "You'll never drive me away, I _promise_ with all of my being. I love you _more than anything,_ and that's coming from a girl that's never known what love is like, in its purest form." She gets to her knees and takes his cheeks in her hands, pressing her forehead to his. "Love used to be a four letter word that I thought could be easily manipulated for answers. I know I can't force you, but...you're the first thing I've ever let myself care for, and if I lose you, I might as well lose myself too. Like it or not, you're a big part of who I've become, too. And as scary as it sounds, you mean a lot to me. Come back to us, Peter," she whispers tenderly to him, "Come back to me, when you're ready to do so. I'll be waiting for you. However long you need. Don't keep me waiting."

Peter sucks in a deep breath, his eyes shut as their foreheads are kept on each other's. His breathing has returned to normal, not the shallow, hitched version she's been hearing. "Please, tell me you'll be here for me all the way. I don't know how long it'd take, but I need you _too._ "

It's enough for her, hearing those words. She's willing to be there to help him all the way, back to his feet, however long it takes. 

"I'll be here for you today, tomorrow, and the day after, and _forever._ " A weak smile forms on her lips as she pulls away to gaze at him, her voice low as she speaks in the most genuine tone she can manage, "Through everything and anything, through every up and down. I promise to be there for you, if you're willing to make the first steps to recovery. I'm not about to go anywhere."

Sleepless nights has taken a toll on Peter, she can tell, as his eyes are dark with circles underneath, his eyes red rimmed from the tears. She can feel his hand raise to touch her waist, to feel her. And she doesn't mind it one bit, she craves the touch he gives. "I'm sorry. For shutting you out."

Her eyes soften their gaze on his, searching his as he apologized, "Don't. None of that was ever your fault. You couldn't control the circumstance. Things can only get better from here. You deserve nothing but the better," she rakes her hand through his hair, untangling the messy pieces and combing back his growing locks, "No more apologies. I don't want to hear it. Hush."

She can see the way his tears cling to his lashes, the delicate look he's giving her as she combs through his hair. His hand grips at her wrist, taking her hand in his for a moment. "I'm...I'm so damn tired of running, Gamora," his voice is pitiful, "I would hate to experience any of this again, I'm so tired of everything...Please, tell me that I won't have to," he chokes on a sob, this one harsher than the rest had been, forced and causing him to break down, as he leans into her arms, his head on her chest, and fully starts to cry.

_Oh, how her heart hurt._

As far as she's concerned, it's hard for her to answer that question. So she doesn't and places a hand on his back to comfort him, another hand on the back of his head to brush the curls. They stay like this for a while, letting Peter sob out for the first time in days. It's then that he looks up, cheeks filled with tears. Gamora wipes at them. "Let's get you to bed. I'll stay with you. You need the sleep, Peter," her chest can't stop aching as she wipes the remaining un-shed tears, and it's then she promises herself that he deserves nothing but the utmost best that she can give.

He doesn't argue. Soon he's changed out, and he's climbing into bed. He lays on his pillow, and judging how quickly he falls soundly asleep, it's probably the most comfortable sleep he's gotten since this internal downward spiral began. Stealthily, she puts the bowls of fruits on the nightstand, then crawling into bed with him, pulling the blanket up to cover him, then pressing her face to his chest. His steady heartbeat is comforting somewhat, and it soon lulls her to the best sleep she's had.

_I love you, more than anything._


	3. so wake me up when it's all over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> — "when i'm wiser and i'm older,  
> all this time i was finding myself and i,  
> didn't know i was lost."

There's a noise of dissent as the artificial lighting of the ship dawns on them both in Peter's room, deep and masculine as the taller figure in the bed rolls on his back with a groan. He turns on his back, his arm over his eyes, to hopefully snooze for another few minutes. He does eventually get up, but the other figure in the sheets that's tucked into his arm confuses him for a moment. Without alarming the figure, he pulls the cover down, only to reveal a sleeping Gamora, who has her hand on his shirt, placed just where his heart is, tightly balled into a fist - and it makes him feel all warm and cuddly on the inside. He leans closer to give her a kiss to her forehead.

For the most part, it makes Gamora stir in her sleep, whining and whimpering as she shifts. Alarmed, he pats her back and hums a soft tune, hoping to ease her back to sleeping. It works. Sighing at that, he wraps his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer to his chest, letting her snuggle closer, and at the same time letting him gain a better view of her face as she sleeps. Peter's hands linger on her jaw, tucking the stray strands of curls that go from brunette to magenta behind her ear. Under the dim lighting, it brings out the best of her features - silver scars that line her eyebrows and her high cheekbones, lips that look so lusciously soft to kiss, her eyelashes long and complimenting the rest of her face. He notices how carefree and harmless she looks as she sleeps, her forehead free of a frown, and her lips even in a small smile, as her hand lays on top of his heart.

He wonders what she's dreaming about.

He stays like this for a while longer, as he patiently awaits for Gamora to wake. 

After a while, her breathing gets heavier, and it's a signal that she's waking up. He glances down at her as she does, rubbing her shoulder to soothe her. Gamora's eyes open first, stirring in his arms as she presses her face closer to his chest. Her head then tilts to look at him, frowning for a split second before it seems like she manages to piece together the occurrence of events that happened the night before, her lips cracking into a fond smile. "Morning, Peter."

Through the wake up process, he waits for her to wake up patiently, continuing to hum lightly under his breath as he presses gentle kisses to her forehead. When she finally looked at him, and the way she greeted him good morning so sweetly and tenderly, it makes him grin. "You slept pretty well."

"For the record," her fist eases the grip she has on his shirt, then reaching to touch his jaw, tracing it with her fingertip, "You make a wonderful pillow to sleep on. You are very warm to cuddle with, too. Who knew the galactic outlaw Star-Lord was like that?" she teases, still sleepy from the long hours. He thinks that this might be the first night in the week that both of them have slept this well.

"I enjoyed being your pillow and personal heater," he teases back, lightly rubbing her shoulder as they cuddle close, the galaxy going by outside of the window. "You looked so blissful while you slept. I truly wonder what you were thinking of while you slept. Not that I'd invade your privacy, but I can't help but wish to know."

Gamora's arms tighten its grip around his body, a hand resting on his ribs, tracing small shapes to the fabric as she eases against his embrace, "I suppose it's because of how delightfully warm you are to cuddle while I was asleep," she shrugs that thought off as her head rests on his shoulder, "I don't remember any of my dreams, either that, or they're too horrible that I just don't sleep at all, to avoid them."

He cringes inwardly at the thought of her horrible dreams, the ones that keep her awake at night. "You should've told me about those," he offers a rather sad smile, expression softening. "You always look so...tired and stressed in the mornings. This morning seems much better than the rest you've had, and not like our cuddling is the reason for it, but this morning seems to be one of the better ones you've had overall."

As compensation for the sad smile, she offers one of her own back to him. "It's alright. I've dealt with them before in my life, it's not like I haven't. Sometimes the best thing is to just forget and let them be, instead of harping on it. So what if I get those dreams? It's not like I can do anything about it, so might as well just let it be and live with what it is. I'm already lucky enough to have all of this in my life, some sort of stability and a place to call home, even if it's _not_ an actual home."

The sad smile lingers on his lips - how he wishes it were that easy for him to forget about it and let it be. If he were to be honest, he wishes he could easily forget and face the day as easily as she did. It would make this healing process so much easier, so much better. He would hurt less, remembering things that he associated with death. "I wish it were that easy to forget about the things I've lost. I hate crying over things I can't bring back."

"In all fairness, Peter," she shifts, placing her hand on the bed and pushing herself up to sit up in his bed, her eyes still on his as they talk casually, "I'd rather be able to remember what I've lost. It's funny, really. I don't know what I've lost, but yet I know what I have lost. That probably made zero sense, but...I'd choose to be able to recall things that were once significant in my life. Like my parents, my home planet, or whatever little innocence I had left before Thanos took that all away from me," she reaches her hand over to brush his curls in her fingers. "I guess that's the root of all my dreams. Wanting whatever I'd lost back."

Peter feels absolutely sorry about it. He forgets often that just like him, others on the team have lost their families, their dignities, or whatever they once were. Gamora is an orphan, just like himself, abused and tortured to do the dirty work of someone she never desired to have for a father. _He's not my father,_ her voice rings in his head from the time that they were at Knowhere, and he's finally beginning to truly understand what she meant by that. He glances to his fingers, awkward about the topic. "You deserve better."

Gamora raises an eyebrow, looking at him with innocent eyes. He turns to look at her - oh, how absolutely wonderful she looked in this dim lighting. She looks like an angel, sweet and gentle. "You deserve your innocence back. Whatever was taken from you-"

His next words are cut off, and he shuts up as he feels a pair of lips on his own. Her lips are so tender, sweet like candy, just like the way he thought they'd be. Both of her hands are warm on his cheeks, as the kiss lingers on his, and when she pulls away, he's not exactly proud of the whimper that leaves his throat. Too bad breathing is a thing, anyway.

"What was that for?" He asks, cheeks flushing red and dark as he smiles genuinely to him. 

She shrugs it off again, her own sheepish smile forming, "To shut you up. I wanted you to think of happy thoughts instead of the sad ones. You've already had too many sad thoughts this week. You deserve to be happy," Gamora runs her fingers along his jaw, and before he can find the right words to reply, she's speaking again, "Your mustache and facial hair has outgrown, I should help you to shave. Would you like that?"

Peter's heart warms at the offer, pushing himself up on his bed and nodding, then getting off the bed and walking towards the bathroom. "I think I'd quite like that."

She follows closely behind him, then pushing herself up to sit on the sink counter. With how tiny she was, she could easily fit herself there. Reaching over, she takes his shaver, his face towel, and shaving foam. "Stand here, in front of me," she instructs, and when he does walk over, he gasps at the sudden sensation of her legs tangling around his waist, and there's that smirk that only Gamora can pull off. She pulls him closer till his hips are against hers, and her body pressed against his. He wonders if this is meant to be a shaving session, or a session of teasing, but he doesn't question the real intention as she begins to apply the shaving foam to the bits to shave off. "Keep still, Quill," she still has that smirk. How he wants to kiss that smirk away.

He follows her instructions, staying silent as their breathing surrounds the bathroom. He can hear the way she hums along to the music from his old walkman, and if that doesn't make his heart warm even further, he doesn't know what else could do the same thing. His hands have found a way to her waist, holding her close to him as she continues to shave. He can feel just how careful she is with the blade, letting it glide against his skin softly and cautiously. As a joke, he reaches to his own face, taking a little of the foam and wipes it onto her face, earning him an exasperated sigh.

"Peter," she pulls back and looks at him, "Do you wanna get cut?"

"Mm, maybe. Might be worth it."

She rolls her eyes, but there's a hint of a fond smile that forms on her lips as she resumes shaving for him. They spend a few more minutes like this, with her legs tangled around him, and his hands on her waist. Their respective body warmth can be felt on each other's skin, and it's rather comforting, if he's going to be truthful. 

"Take a look if it's okay," she pulls back finally, and he looks in the mirror to check on her work. He touches his jaw, then offers her a wide smile. "Yeah, it looks fine."

"You look a lot better than you were last week," she compliments him, putting away the things and washing the face towel, proceeding to hang it on the rack. When her attention is back on him, he picks her up by her waist, then holds her by her thighs to get her off the counter. A soft squeal escapes her lips as she's picked up, her elbows resting on her shoulders, and her legs wrapped around him like earlier. Her lips are curled into a wide grin, making his heart melt. "What was that for?"

"I'm thinking of just going back to cuddle for a while more before we really have to get up. The ship is still quiet," He tilts his head, then sitting on the bed and letting his back hit the bed, with her on top of him. "How does that sound?"

Gamora nods to that idea, not needing any other words as she leans back down to rest her body on top of his. If they didn't need to be up, then he supposes this would be how the rest of the day will be. And somehow, he thinks he can get used to all of this. But there's still a thought that lingers in his mind.

"The team is going to know about this at some point," he suddenly brings the topic up as she glances up to look at him, and he hesitates to continue that thought. "Gamora, are we even dating? Or are we not?"

She seems to tense, then straightening up, and for a moment he thinks he's said the wrong thing. "We never did make it official," she mutters under her breath as she looks at him, her eyes seemingly confused as they lay there together. "I know that I, uh...I really do want this, whatever we have," her face eases to something more of a contemplative expression, "I wouldn't mind, if we do this, like a, uh-" she pauses, "A relationship."

His eyes light up at the words she says, listening to her attentively. It's painfully cute, the way she stutters over her words, and he has to resist a chuckle at the back of his throat. Gamora frowns, her cheeks flushing green as she slaps his chest lightly. "Don't laugh. My embarrassment isn't funny."

However, a part of him feared something that seemed illogical, even with how much she's declared her love for him. "Are you sure about this? I don't want to hurt you at all, be it emotionally or what not. I just hope that you know what you're getting yourself into, if we really do decide to declare this as a relationship."

Gamora shakes her head, pressing her lips to his and pulls away just shortly after, then placing her thumb to his lips. "Even if it means that were not compatible, and we're not made for each other, I'm a hundred percent sure that you _won't_ hurt me. Just because you're going through a rough patch right now, and I know it's going to be hard to get past the emotional trauma, doesn't mean that I won't love you the same."

"I just want us both to be happy," he places his hands on her thighs, but glances away with how tense he feels about this. "I don't wish to hurt you at all with what I say, knowing that I could've treated you so much better, instead of causing you to feel more pain than you have in your life. You deserve love. Not pain."

She offers a genuine, wide smile, as her hand moves to tilt his chin so he's looking at her. "Peter," he calls tenderly, and he thinks he's melted just enough to be a putty that can be molded in her hands, "You've treated me better than anyone else in my life from the moment I met you. Do you remember? You saved my life in the Kyln, let me listen to the music your mother left behind for you, and taught me to dance. You may just be the nicest person I've ever had, and I mean it," she kisses his forehead, "You gave me the chance to love again, and truly...I'd be damned if I let this chance go. You treat me way better than I think I deserve to be treated, and I can only hope to do the very same for you. Because if you want this, then I'm in this for the long run, too, however long it takes, and however long we have left of our lives."

He's absolutely speechless from that little speech she made, and that's more than enough to confirm that he loves her with all of his being, and all of his heart. He leans up to capture her lips with his, then pulls away and gazes at her with soft, lovesick puppy-like eyes. "I've done stupid things in my life, Gamora, but truly, loving you might've been the very best thing I've done. And I don't want to mess this up. I want the best for you."

She leans back down onto his chest, her ear pressed against his body, and the scent of her wash so distinct in his nose. "I love you, Peter, and don't you dare think for a split second that I would _ever_ stop loving you. You have my word."

"And I love you, _too._ "


	4. lovely, never never change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> — "keep that breathless charm;  
> won't you please arrange it?   
> 'cause i love you,  
> just the way you look tonight."

The galaxy is filled with odd things - nebulas that are of different colour spectrums, planets with different cultures, asteroid belts, milky ways, black holes, different wildlife, solar systems, and so many unknown territories that have yet to be explored.

And then there's love.

Gamora sees love as something that just somehow entered her life in a weird way. If she could associate it with something, it would be like the flowers she used to play with as a young child - it begins from the seed, when she met Peter on Xandar, and sprouted the day she allowed him to enter her life, when she told him about herself on Knowhere and understand what she grew up with, and her life as a child of Thanos. Then came the buds of the supposed flower, something blossoming between them both that she had refused to admit to in fear for the fact that she wouldn't be able to return that love. She lied to herself for days and weeks. She told herself she didn't need _another_ distraction, and even if she did love him, which she supposed she did after all, she wouldn't be able to give him something permanent that he would be happy with. Even if he loved her, and vowed to care for her, how long could they both be happy for before Thanos inevitably comes for her and takes her away from him? It was only a matter of time that it would happen, and she knows she can't bear to see him cry over her. She didn't want to be responsible for Peter's tears. That flower refused to bloom for a while. Like how a gardener would try to give it all the attention it needed to grow, Peter refused to give up on her. 

And it is tempting to give in.

* * *

She's watching him sleep, his stubble finally clear off his face, and his trademark sideburns lining his jaw as he lies on his side. It's now somewhat unofficial that she moved into his room, on account that it would help both him and her to sleep better. And for the most part, it's worked. They've tried this arrangement for a few days now, and the way his heart beats in his chest, the way he has his arms around her waist by the time both of them wake in the morning, and the way he smiles when he wakes, it's rather endearing. Peter just seemed to have an effect on her; and it brings out a smile on her face when she wakes, too.

Gamora doesn't sleep much. Her body modifications are designed for long hours of no sleep, and it gets her through conditions of low energy. So when Peter sleeps, she stays by his side to watch him, and falls asleep on her own accord. When she doesn't sleep at all, she'd allow for him to sleep on her chest, his head on her sternum, his hair just touching the underneath of her chin, and it tickles, but in a good way.

Both of them stay like this for a while, till Peter begins to stir and press his face to her sternum. It makes her giggle slightly, and it wakes Peter up.

"Why are you still up?" he frowns and yawns groggily, sitting up on the bed and rubbing his eyes. His hair is all over the place, and she can't help but laugh at how Peter just looks so adorable when he wakes. The blanket is covered around his shoulders, and he looks like a kid that just got so rudely interrupted from their slumber.

"You fell asleep really early, so I stayed up to cuddle with you. Oddly adorable, but I apologize if you think that's creepy." she shrugs and sits up with him, moving closer just so their knees were touching. She has her hand on his thigh, lightly squeezing it in her hand, and it brings her a sense of comfort that he's alive, breathing and right in front of her. Just days ago she'd almost lost him, and now they were trying something _new._

Her eyes are on his thighs, but she can feel the way his eyes are on her. She glances up, and the first thing she sees is his emerald orbs staring back at her. Accompanied by his messy blonde waves, his emerald eyes are soft and slightly sleepy, but there's a spark in there that makes her heart pound in her chest. His eyes are like the trees that she once grew up with, easy on the eyes and warm. She's always thought of Peter by these two words. 

She could get lost in his eyes. "You're staring," she smirks slightly, "Do you need something?"

Peter tilts his head at her, seemingly sort of snapping back to reality. "You."

Oh, that familiar feeling of a hot blush rises on her cheeks, causing her to flush darker than she already is. She tries to hide the blush away, but it fails miserably when Peter laughs about it. She watches as he gets off the bed, and reaches over for his zune. He scrolls down a tab and finds the song he wants, then stretches his right hand out for her. "Dance with me."

If she said she hated dancing, she would be lying. True, dancing was way out of her element, and she never knew what dancing was till she met Peter, a lovable idiot who loved dancing more than life itself, and had saved the galaxy with a _dance-off._ Dancing with him felt like heaven. His hands, his every touch from his fingertips, she thinks that there's magic in them. It makes her skin feel hot and tingly, like she was ready to just melt into his arms and get him to call her his own, like putty in his hands. How could she hate dancing with him?

"Of course," she moves off the bed and stands, then taking his hand with her left. She pretends to do a curtsy, like Peter had shown her from the movies, and it made him laugh as he pulled her to his chest. She lets herself be tugged, and sets her hand on his shoulder, and one in his hand. Their chests are just lightly touching, and she can feel his breath on the crown of her head, just where her hair roots are. She tilts her head up to look at him, absorbing how wonderful he looks in the dim lighting. She figures it's only a few hours after midnight, so it's still dark and the artificial lighting hasn't turned on yet.

With each word, your tenderness grows; tearin' my fear apart, and that laugh, wrinkles your nose, touches my foolish heart. . . __

_"This song is somewhat fitting," she chuckles and grips his shoulder just slightly tighter, watching him from her angle._

_"Frank Sinatra, 1961, The Way You Look Tonight." He mutters, swaying them gently along to the music under the lighting of the galaxy that floats by them. "It's oddly fitting, I can't help but agree with that."_

_There's no words needed between them both as they sway along to the music, letting the music completely take over them both. All she needs is time with him; she's not one for much. This is more than enough of what she hopes for. For how much he claims that he's not that good of a dancer, and that he's completely improvising at times, she thinks he's lying. He's always comfortable in his own skin, holding someone in his arms like that, and she's honoured that quite possibly, she'd have someone that she'll dance with for the rest of her life, as long as it may be._

_Suddenly, she's not so scared anymore._

_She's not as scared as she was when they both ventured into a relationship - she was afraid to work out how both of them would be around the team, whether to act completely natural around them and pretend there was nothing going on between them, or let the team get used to them both dating, and they wouldn't have to hide it. Not like it was an embarrassing thing, was it? It was bound to happen at some point that they'll both get together, and then they'll have to tackle the same issue, even if they wanted to play it cool and pretend nothing happened between them both. It was just too obvious to try and hide, too obvious to shy away from. Not when they had a walking emotion detector on their team._

_Like she said, they were bound to find out soon, anyway._

_And they swayed there, without anymore words between them both as they continue to do so. There's a brief look that Peter gives, and she raises an eyebrow. "I'm gonna twirl you," he whispers and moves his hand off her waist, ready to do so. She acknowledges it, and lets him raise her arm and around her head. She spins and moves out of his arms, right foot crossing over her left first, letting their arms straighten as she looks at him with affection, before taking steps and twirling back in, right over left again before she moves back and leans her back against his chest._

_"Real smooth, Quill," she smirks and turns her head to look at him, a smile forming on her cheeks as they continue swaying._

_When he smiles back and kisses the side of her forehead tenderly, suddenly it all makes sense. The flower that's been struggling to bud for such a long time has finally bloomed into a full flower, one that has struggled through many ups and downs, and even potentially could've withered and died. But it persisted, thanks to the constant care and affection, and now it's a beautiful flower that outshines the rest. Their love was just that strong; going through so much just to get to where they are now._

__And it was all worth it._ _


	5. get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "give me something that'll haunt me, whenever you're not around;  
> 'cause i see, sparks fly, when you smile."
> 
> in which peter and gamora go on a date, and share kisses because they can't keep their hands off each other for one second.

_Two Years Later._

There's the sound of arguing on the flight deck of the Benatar, belonging to the voices of none other than Rocket and Peter. Of course, it makes Gamora roll her eyes, but to be fair, it's childish arguing over who gets to decide which planet they should land on for their refueling and supply pick up. It's only a day or two before they take off again, so Gamora really doesn't see a point in arguing about such small, petty matters. 

Then again, she's gotten used to travelling with the Guardians so often, that being in the air consistently doesn't really bother her anymore. She'd like for a day or two on the ground, though, to have a change of pace for a while.

Maybe even a date with Peter, perhaps.

"We're landing on Xandar and that's final!" She can hear Peter yell at Rocket, earning a quiet huff from the raccoon as he rapidly runs his fingers over the coordinates and types it into his screen. The Benatar makes a brief swerve and when Gamora next checks on her Radar, they're headed back to Xandar, where they would usually land if they needed more than just food for the restock. Peter claims it's the only place he trusts when it comes to food and ammunition restocks.

Gamora returns her attention to the work table as she focuses on cleaning her sword. Dagger after dagger lines the circumference of the table as she runs the cloth over the remaining stains of their enemy from the mission the day prior, the sound of the metal against cloth somewhat rather comforting, as part of a routine. In the years that she grew up under Thanos, cleaning her sword like this every night became music to her ears, just like how the music from the zune has become music to her ears in the last two. 

Her head lifts up at that sudden thought. _Two years._

 _Peter and I have been together for two years,_ Gamora suddenly realizes, widening her eyes as her hands stop cleaning her sword for a moment - has time really gone by that quickly? Just yesterday they had picked a fight somewhere at a shopping district on Xandar, and today they're dating, going strong at _two years._

Just as Gamora's distracted from her thoughts about their relationship, she receives a scare from someone's sudden touch. She glances sideways to look at who's hands had just settled on her waist, and she realizes it's just Peter. "Jeez, way to scare me there," she sarcastically chides him, "Could've pulled a blade on you and stabbed you."

He feigns offence and gasps at that, dramatically placing a hand on his chest to express that offence. "You would stab me? Won't you miss me, then?"

Gamora rolls her eyes at him, returning her attention back to her sword. She takes the metal rod that's been lying by the side of the table and starts to glide the sword over the rod, the sound of metal on metal crisp in her ears as she repeats the motion multiple times. "Maybe."

"Maybe?! So much for loving you." She can tell he's pouting, he always does so right after she gives a sarcastic response. Her response and the way she's working on sharpening her sword doesn't stop him, however, from tangling his arms around her waist in a hug, leaning his face against her shoulder blades with a contented sigh. "There's a carnival on Xandar, just in time when we get back there," he states, making Gamora stop her sword sharpening to glance at him.

"Are you suggesting what I think you are?" She laughs a little, smiling at him genuinely through her lashes.

"Go on a date with me," he sounds rather inviting, and to be fair, the kiss that he leaves on the side of her head pretty much seals the deal, "I can't go to the carnival on my own."

Gamora places her sword and sharpening rod down on the table, rolling her eyes as she turns around and leans her hips against the table. Her fingers trail along his jaw, taking in how handsome he looks - he'd just shaven in the morning, and she can smell the distinct aftershave, and his shirt is crisp clean from the laundry. "You're real cute. I'll go with you. I have never been to the carnival before, though."

Peter's smile grows into a large, genuine grin that makes his eyes form slight crescents, and her heart melts like butter. "I promise it'll be fun," he whispers as he leans in slowly, a small distance at a time, closing the gap between them for a long, slow kiss.

* * *

"You look wonderful," she hears from their room door, and she turns to see him leaning against the door frame. She has a casual black camisole top and a pair of simple black jeans, tucked into her combat boots. For the most part, it wasn't her idea to put on an all black outfit, but Peter had, for some reason, decided for the both of them to wear black together. And she thinks he looks wonderful in all black. He's dressed in one of his usual black leather jackets, with black jeans and his combat boots, just like her own. 

"You don't look too bad yourself," she sways her hips exaggeratedly towards him, smirking slightly as she heard his breath hitch when her hands trailed under his leather jacket. "I'm warming up to the idea of seeing you in all black." 

Both of them share a quick kiss, before Peter reaches his arm out for her. "Shall we?" 

She nods and returns the gesture by looping her arm with his, shutting their room door behind her. "Of course."

The ship is silent - Drax and Mantis are off somewhere exploring Xandar again, and they will most likely come back with something that they've bought out of impulse, but they find some use for it later. Rocket and Groot are off picking up ammunition and new weapons to replace the old ones, and Rocket will most likely come back with spare parts for a new bomb he's been working on for the last week. That would leave them both with some time to be alone and on their date.

* * *

They're both engrossed in the food item that Peter calls _Candy Floss,_ and for the most part she can see why it's so addictive to him. It's fluffy, easy to shred and eat, and sweet. Somehow, it sort of satisfies her sweet tooth, which she has admitted to Peter that she has when they began dating. Carefully, she shreds a piece from the stick, and places it in her mouth. The candy floss melts in her mouth, becoming literal liquid sugar in just seconds. 

"It's addictive," she hums to one of his songs with amusement as both of them sit together, sharing a stick of candy floss together. It was the largest size they could get, because both of them were big eaters, and they were already halfway through the stick. 

Peter agrees with the notion, nodding as he takes another piece. "How are you enjoying the carnival so far?"

"It's wonderful. Bright, colourful...I've never been to anything like this. And honestly? There's nobody else I would rather be here with other than you, Peter." She leans over to kiss his cheek, "Thank you for this date, Peter."

"You're welcome," he returns the wide grin, as they continue to sit there with their candy floss.

* * *

"Let's go up!" He points excitedly to a wheel like structure, turning and blinking with colourful lights surrounding it. "It's a Ferris wheel. Take it with me!" 

The childish excitement in Peter's voice makes her laugh quietly as he tugs on her hand, running with him to the ride and getting in line with the queue. His hand is around her waist, holding her close to his body as they wait together for their turn to board. When they do finally get a carriage, they board and sit together, side by side, with Gamora's legs dangled over Peter's, just because she loves being playful. 

"I heard there's fireworks later," he nudges her shoulder, and it gets her to turn and look at him. "After the fireworks, we'll head back, that sound good? We gotta rest up and get ready to leave in the morning."

Gamora nods her head, agreeing and leaning her head on her shoulder, and staying quiet for the ride. Peter seems to understand - she's usually quiet when she truly does take the time to soak in the environment of the location that they're in. It's not a bad thing, she remembers telling him, but she just likes to take in everything she sees with a quiet mind. His hand is in hers, fingers intertwined, his thumb running over her knuckles lightly as the ride begins to rotate. Soon they're on the top, and they stay there for a while, letting people below board the carriages. The view is stunning, since it's just the starting of the sunset, as the sky is coloured in various shades of pink, yellow and orange. The lights below have begun to show their glow in the darkening of the sky, flashing and sparkling in their individual colours.

She turns to glance at Peter, who now has his head on her shoulder. She turns her head gently, and leaves a soft kiss to his forehead.

* * *

The fireworks light up the sky in various colours and forms, some glittering down, while some reach the sky before they explode and create their own shapes. Gamora is absorbed in the scene, her head leaned back on Peter's chest, and his arms draped over her shoulders as both of them watch the fireworks together. Except, for some reason, she can tell that Peter isn't exactly focused on the fireworks. Her head tilts up to look at him, and she frowns. "You're missing the show, Peter."

He replies with absolutely no hesitance at all. "What if _you_ are the show?"

Her cheeks flush dark green at his pick-up line; it's absolutely corny but it's something that only Peter would manage out of that mouth of his. If it weren't for that smart ass mouth of his, she wonders how he would've gotten out of any of the situations he's found himself in over the years. "You're the worst," she teases, smiling widely at him, giving it away that it makes her happy to hear him say that.

"You know you love it."

_He's right. She loves it. She wouldn't trade anything in the world for him._


	6. never gonna stop until it's broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "how long 'til we learn, dancing is dangerous?  
> how long 'til we find, the devil inside of us?  
> how high is too low?  
> we're not that young."

When Peter woke, he found her missing and out of his arms, unlike the usual. 

Their clothes were nicely folded in the walk-in wardrobe, pillows fluffed, and his body covered with the soft blanket they used every night. It smells very much like her, a particular scent he can't quite seem to identify even after four years of dating. They were both happily in love, and Peter never doubted it for a moment that he loved her just as much as she loved him.

He loves her with all of his being, and he knows it. It's not the kind of love that he displays when he's around Mantis, the kind of brotherly love when he teases her about being too serious about certain things. It's not the kind of love he has for the young teen Groot, the kind that makes him roll his eyes every time Groot makes a snide comment. Nor is it the kind of love that he has for the team, the kind that gets him worried when both Rocket and Drax are scheming to do stupid shit. It's the kind of love that makes his heart flutter, makes his chest all warm and tingly when she wakes and looks at him first thing in the morning. It's the kind of love that has him laughing when Gamora doesn't understand his stupid Earth references, or the kind of love that makes him smile widely when they're dancing together.

It's the kind of love that units can't buy.

But really. Where's Gamora? His mind is fuzzy from the confusion of thoughts, when the bathroom door opens and reveals the woman he's been looking for - standing there with her hair wrapped in a towel, wearing nothing but a black sports bra and black boxer shorts, as she wrings out the last of the water in her hair. She hasn't noticed that he's awake, so all Peter does is prop his head on his hand, lying on his side to look at her better. His cheeks have rose into a wide smile, lips curled upwards as he observes her every movement. It seems to take her a while before she stumbles back at the realization that he's awake. "Oh, since when were you awake?" she questions, tying her hair into a braid and ending it with a hair tie.

"Maybe about half an hour ago." He widens his arms for her, letting her climb back into bed and joining him. Both of them stay still for just a little while longer, till she sits back up with a cute yawn, and moves off the bed. She reaches her hand out for him. "We've got stock checks to do today, before we head back for our usual pick up." 

Peter widens his eyes with a groan, pouting childishly. "Do we really have to?"

"Yes," is all she replies, earning another groan, but Peter does it with love.

He'll never stop finding things about her to love.

* * *

Peter went around the Benatar to look for the green-skinned assassin, eventually finding her in the weapons cupboard, holding a piece of paper, clipped to a board and a pen, counting their stocks for ammunition. His mind suddenly has an idea, hoping she wouldn't hate him for it.

His hands run around her waist, causing her to tense up, and he can feel it, or it's more like muscle memory at this point, because the feeling is so familiar - her breathing speeds up a little too fast, muscles tightening as she tries to regain the regular pace. It makes him giggle, breathing slightly against her nape. It's the spot where she's most sensitive, one that Peter recognizes all too well. He presses his lips to the spot, beginning to suck lightly just behind her ear, grazing his teeth over her as his hands travel under her shirt to feel her bare skin. At the moment his teeth nips her skin, she drops the board and pen, breath hitching even further as he can feel her beginning to turn to absolute mush at his touch. He had his ways around her, and he was proud of himself for catching her off guard.

All too soon that ends, and suddenly she has the upper hand, turning around in his arms and catching his wrists in her hands. He doesn't struggle, watching her close to cupboard door and locking it behind him to give them some privacy. In their weaponry cupboard, space is limited, but they work with what they have. Her hands reach to his chest, her hand resting over his heart, as she leans up to kiss him on the lips, sincere, soft, passionate. It seems to be that way at first, until she takes it up a notch and swipes her tongue over his lips for entrance, and slips her tongue in forcefully, immediately asserting dominance and exploring his mouth. Sometimes, she'd tell him how smart he is, using his mouth to say all the sweet things, and sometimes, how he was smart for using his mouth for the _right_ purposes. But today? She's got absolute control over him, her hand running dangerously close over his crotch, another hand gripping his wrists tightly to prevent him from moving at all.

She pulls away after a few moments of intense kissing, their breaths mingling as she slams him a tad too hard against the door of the cupboard. She's on her tiptoes, leaning in to start kissing his neck. Her lips trail to kiss his jaw, finger on her back as her nail grinds down his spine. It's his turn to turn to absolute jelly, legs weak at the way she continues to run her finger up and down his spine, lips sucking ever so slightly on his skin. Her hand on his spine reaches to the back of his head, where the shorter hairs are, and tugs his hair hard till his head is facing the ceiling. It allows her better access, now sucking on his adam's apple as he swallows thickly. His moan comes out a little too breathy for his liking, but all Gamora does is cover his mouth and whispers, "You're too loud, Peter," in the most seductive voice she's ever managed. Oh, that painful feel in his pants, he can start to feel it already. He has no regrets at all, earning what he deserved for surprising her like that. Both her hands reach down to tug on his belt loops, smirking and undoing his belt, "Sometimes I just want to rip your shirt off, y'know? Your shirts are always one size too tight. We'll have to do something about that, don't we?"

She's _this_ close to doing his zipper, when suddenly the voice of a particular feline booms through. "Are you both in there? Gross!"

Peter sighs and backs away, running his hand through his hair and doing his belt up. "So much for the make out, I really thought we were going to be successful in here," he rolls his eyes and opens the door, earning a grossed out look from Rocket. 

"You both were _in_ my weaponry cupboard, making out? You both are insane!" he walks away, making gagging noises. 

Gamora flips him off, picking the board up and walking away. "We're not done with this." 

"You bet." he shrugs and walks away too, going elsewhere to do his duties.

* * *

He's gazing at her again from across the dinner table as they have their meal, running his spoon along his bowl of meat stew. He's finished most of it, and he's only left with whatever little liquid left. Pushing himself out of his seat, he moves out of the dining area and makes the move to wash his bowl. Gamora just happens to slide in beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder, their hips on each other as they wash the dishes together.

"Mm, we're not done with the make-out session," she whispers, flinging her hands dry and patting her pants, before leaning her body against the counter and glancing at him. "Would be tempted to do it right now if we didn't have flight duty."

He finishes the last of the washing and pulls her close, hands still wet but not really caring, although it does make Gamora scowl sarcastically about it. "Mm, so much for the interruption earlier," he pats her back, at the same time being a dipshit as he wipes his hands on her shirt. It makes her laugh, then nudging his knee lightly. 

"Idiot."

Hours later they're sat alone in the cockpit, Gamora on the lower deck, and Peter on the deck above at the pilot's seat. Gamora has yet to spot anything of interest, running her fingers over the radars and her screens to update on the stocks they checked earlier. The galaxy seems relatively quiet as of late, barely any noise or missions to finish as they travel through.

"For our next date," he starts, eyes focused on her as she tilts her head back to look at him from below, "Since we're headed back to Xandar, how about we go do something fun? Maybe a casual date at somewhere fancy, just you and me? What do you think?" Peter grins widely, waiting for her reply.

Her eyes light up like an innocent child. Dates have always been a luxury for them both, only occurring once every while when they returned to Xandar, a familiar planet, for restocks, with thanks to the Nova Corps' support. They'd always have supplies like ammunition, food, water, and medical bandages waiting for them, free of charge, in exchange for the guardians' service, as long as they continue to guard the galaxy. Their screen has them en route for Xandar, which they're estimating to arrive in the next two days, just in time for the next restock.

"That sounds wonderful," she turns back to her station, propping one leg up onto the chair and bopping her head to the music. For a long time, Gamora had softened to both Peter and his ways of getting her to dance, but he'd also discovered that she grew to enjoy his music too. They'd listen to every song together, sometimes falling asleep to it, with her on top of him, the Zune still playing when they woke in the morning.

And he absolutely adores that.

_Beep, beep._

Gamora's head shoots up, and she turns to Peter, frowning. 

"A distress call?" Peter taps his screen and the call flickers to life. They have yet to have a distress call in weeks, the galaxy being considerably peaceful as they hop from planet to planet to do routine checks with the authorities every few weeks or so. This is the first in almost months, perhaps, and Gamora has her fingers on her screen, ready to wake the team up and re-route the ship to the location.

There's the sound of bombs and explosives going on in the background, fire cackling as the call continues. A rugged voice calls out. _“This is the Asgardian refugee vessel Statesman; we are under assault! I repeat, we are under assault! Engines are dead. Life support failing. Requesting aid from any vessel within range! Our crew is made up of Asgardian families; we have very few soldiers here. This is not a warcraft. I repeat, this is not a warcraft!"_

"Peter, we got to take this distress signal, there's family involved," she shakes her head worriedly and changes the route of the ship, immediately prompting Peter to swerve and change the direction. "I'll go wake the team."

His stomach felt like they were doing loops, sick an ready to throw up just because of the distress signal. He grips her wrist just as she walks by him, pulling her down to kiss her softly. When their lips part, he frowns. "Promise me that when we go out there to save whoever needs our help, you'll stay safe."

Gamora nods, eyes urgent with worry. "I'll do my best."

And he knows she will. Because he loves and trusts her with all of his being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're at the halfway mark! this marks the end of the post gotg vol 2 chapters, and soon we'll be moving on to the chapters after the events of infinity war. thank you for staying with me!


	7. won't you stay with me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "cause you're all i need;  
> this ain't love, it's clear to see;  
> but darling, stay with me."

She's trembling.

She's trembling, shaking, and cowering with fear at nothing in particular. It seems stupid to anyone else that walks by, but to her, she's trembling at the fear of every single thing. The wind, the sound of anything in particular to bring back the memories of what happened when Thanos threw her off the cliff. She's hiding and curled up in the hospital bed, trying her best not to think of anything and just lulling herself back to bed as best as she can. She doesn't want to wake anyone on the ship up, hoping to get some rest before she has to face the day again. 

Gamora sits up in her own bed, looking out of the window as she pulls her knees to her chest, head placed on her knees. Her face is full of tears, body shaking as she tries to refocus herself. It's then that she notices a particular figure off in the corner, his hands crossed over his chest as his eyes stay fixed on her. His blonde, messy waves are unmistakable, and she knows who exactly would be daring enough to enter her room at this hour.

"I told you I wanted to be alone," Gamora whispers softly, just loudly enough for him to hear. The figure walks over, one small step at a time, and sits beside her on the bed. He's silent, _way_ too silent, as he uses his hand to comb through her hair, like he'd always done. The conversation they had earlier in the week is still stuck in her mind.

_"I need some time alone, Peter," she starts, right after the snap had been reversed and all of them have returned to the ship. Peter turns to her and looks at her from where he stands at the door, eyebrows furrowing, causing his forehead to crease. He walks over, and takes her hands in his own, kissing each and every knuckle._

_"You shouldn't be alone now, not when you've just gone through trauma that will leave you scarred for life," he tries his best to reason with her, but all he's met with are her worried and tearful eyes, ones that look way too sad to belong on the happy Gamora he so loves. She shakes her head and moves back, hiding her face and looking away._

_"I'll be in my room if you need me, Peter. You'll be fine for now, I promise. I'll come back when I'm ready," she turns her back to him and pulls the door, shutting the door behind her. It leaves him all alone in what is now their room, filled with her rings and hair ties on the dresser, and their clothes tucked away in the wardrobe._

_Their room now feels way too empty for his liking._

_And so does hers._

Gamora glances up at him, letting him comb his fingers through her hair as they sit silently, knees just bumped against each other. She hasn't talked to him, made contact with him, or even gotten out of her room since they returned to the ship. She's locked herself away in her room for nights now, not wanting to face anyone or have to deal with any conversations that were unnecessary to have. So she kept herself in her room, sleeping and hiding under the sheets every day, as the galaxy went by quietly outside the window. Even when someone came by to get her some food, she'd pretend to be asleep to avoid all conversation or interaction. 

"You can't keep locking yourself away," he mutters softly, hands now lingering on her cheek as his thumb runs over her cheekbone. Her nose tinges with tears, a lump forming in her throat as she tries to hold back the tears that have been forming in the corners of her eyes. "I know you're still upset, but you've got to talk to me. Please."

Gamora pulls away and further back; somehow his touch still somewhat traumatizing. It was the same hand that had attempted to pull the trigger on her, upon her promise, and she doesn't want to be reminded of such, and as much as it breaks her heart to be so cold to his touch, she knows its for the best that she does so, before she hurts him even further. She's still curled up into a ball, hiding her face away from sight.

"Gamora. Please."

Her head peaks up and looks at him, eyes tearful and worried as she crawls over to straddle him. When she's comfortably seated in his lap, she finds herself tucking her head under his chin, ear against his chest, and listens to his heartbeat. It's there, albeit faint. It calms her down, but the tears still soak her face and his shirt. She knows it gets Peter worried to see her cry and be ignored for days, but he knows better as of late and has given her the space she needs. "I don't want to lose you again." she whispers, hands held tightly around his waist as she grips his shirt, trying all means to anchor herself to sanity. She needs to know that he's there, and he's okay. "I"m sorry I made you try to pull the trigger on me. I shouldn't have asked that of you. I shouldn't have made you do something that was so difficult. I shouldn't have-" she begins to feel her chest ache, and she has to stop herself before it grows into a full blown panic attack.

Both of them are awfully silent. She can feel his face tucked into her hair, his hand on her back, and the way his other hand is placed on her thigh. He really does know every single place that eases her back to sanity, those places that help her to calm back down when she needs to be. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you away. I just wanted time alone to recover and I distanced myself. In hindsight, maybe I shouldn't have, and let you help me get better." 

Peter doesn't say anything, instead just picking her up in his arms, carrying her tightly and grabbing her blanket, then shutting her room door behind him and walking to what used to be their bedroom. She doesn't protest and just places her face on his shoulder, inhaling his intoxicating and wonderful scent, and lets him carry her to their room. Peter's bed has a giant blanket, as she recalls, but he's taken her blanket along too. "To get you comfortable," he shrugs, tucking her in and laying beside her, as she curls up in his arms sleepily. "Get some sleep. We'll sleep better when we do it together. If you need anything, just wake me up, okay? We don't have to talk about it now, but you need to give yourself some time and cut some slack. I love you," he whispers and kisses her forehead, "Sleep. I'll be here for you."

Gamora's too tired to argue. The moment she gets pulled in to his chest, she drifts away into a deep slumber, slumped against him. For the first time in days, she feels like this is possibly the best sleep she's ever gotten.


End file.
